


Superman Emergency

by Greensilver (Trelkez)



Category: due South
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-05
Updated: 2009-11-05
Packaged: 2017-10-02 19:52:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trelkez/pseuds/Greensilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We had a Superman emergency," Ray says, a little defensively. "He was about to get grounded forever."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Superman Emergency

**Author's Note:**

  * For [belmanoir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/belmanoir/gifts).



In Frannie's backyard – in what passes for a backyard, anyway – there's a long line of pointy green shrubs against one side of the fence. Back there behind the shrubs is a kid-sized crawl space, a tunnel of fence and branches and dirt, and her kids are always hiding out there, dragging in blankets from the house and small hoards of snacks.

Vecchio thinks it's unsafe or unsanitary or something, but Ray thinks it's cool – just the kind of hideout he would have loved as a kid: big enough to hang out in, too small for adults to get into.

Frannie herself doesn't care so much, most of the time – when dinner is on the table, she figures, they come out of there quick enough – but today she definitely cares, today she cares enough to make Dief cover his ears. Mikey pitched some crazy kind of fit about his toys and ran out there to hide, hours ago. Dinner came and went and he's still out there, in the shrub tunnel, pretending he can't hear the steadily increasing volume of threats being lobbed at him: he's grounded until Sunday; he's grounded for a week; right now he's grounded for a _month_, and Ray is pretty sure that if he doesn't do something fast, the kid is going to be grounded forever.

He tries talking through the shrubs – _hey, Mikey, your ma is pretty mad, maybe we should go inside before you're grounded forever_ – and gets the silent treatment for his trouble. Without giving it much thought, he pulls off his coat, gets down on his hands and knees, and sort of shimmies his way into the shrub tunnel, stretching out as long and narrow as he can get to make himself fit. The kids crawl back and forth all day like it's nothing, but for a guy Ray's size, it feels a bit like Army training: down in the dirt, branches catching on his clothes and scratching his arms, hauling along on his belly. Not that he really knows what Army training is like, but he's seen enough boot camp movies to know he isn't too far off, and _Jesus_ – if Frannie doesn't ground Mikey forever, maybe he_ will_.

Mikey is, of course, as far into the shrub tunnel as he can get, sacked out on a hideously floral blanket with a small pile of empty snack wrappers off to one side. He's a little wide-eyed, and Ray isn't sure if that's because an adult has squished into the hideout or because Ray has given up on not swearing every time a branch whacks him in the face.

"Yeah, you're late for dinner," Ray informs him, refraining at least from swearing _at_ the kid. "In fact, dinner is history."

"I'm grounded," Mikey says, like the whole neighborhood doesn't know.

"If you don't get a move on, you're gonna be grounded forever." Ray jerks a thumb in the general direction of the house. "Let's go."

Mikey reaches for his handful of wrappers, clearly ready to concede – and then Frannie yells from the house, threatening and shrill: "_Michael Joseph Vecchio_, if you don't get your butt in this house _right now_\--"

So much for_ that_. Mikey folds his arms and sticks out his lower lip, the six-year-old equivalent of his uncle's determined, heels-dug-in sulking.

Ray tries to pitch his voice for a serious man-to-man conversation. "Listen, kid, I know you're upset about your – toys, or whatever--"

"Jimmy took my Superman," Mikey mutters, giving Ray a challenging look, like maybe Ray won't get the importance of a kid taking another kid's Superman.

"That's terrible," Ray says sincerely, shifting around until he can look at Mikey without getting a crick in his neck. "But hey, you know where he lives, right?" Mikey just gives him a blank look. Right, poor wording for a six-year-old. "I mean – he didn't take your Superman _far_, just to his bedroom or something, so let's go inside and I'll make him give it back."

Mikey emphatically shakes his head. "Jimmy gave Superman to _Mattie_."

Ray is pretty sure none of Frannie's kids are named Mattie, but he does a quick mental inventory, just in case. Nope; no Mattie. "Who's that?"

Mikey scowls. "She's next door."

"Mattie is a girl," Ray realizes.

That earns him a particularly wide-eyed look, one that suggests maybe Ray is getting close to the actual issue here. "Girls don't even like Superman!"

"Sometimes girls like Superman," Ray tries, getting the six-year-old equivalent of Vecchio's _what are you, stupid_ look. "I'm sure she'll give it back." He isn't at all sure she'll give it back, but he's positive he can find an identical Superman in the store and_ pretend_ she gave it back, which is pretty much the same thing.

"No. Jimmy _gave_ it to her and now it's hers _forever_."

Huh. Isn't eight a little young to be giving presents to girls? Maybe Ray should – no, forget it; Vecchio can take that one. "Okay, and you're mad at your ma about it because--?"

Mikey shrugs.

"I quit," Ray says, to no one and nothing – and gets a response anyway: laughter, from the other side of the shrubs.

"Oh, _man_, Kowalski, do _not_ tell me you're back there." Vecchio sounds like this is the funniest thing that's happened to him in a week, at least. The shrubbery above Ray's head rustles a little, and then Vecchio is grinning down at him between the branches, frustratingly dirt- and scratch-free. "You are! I had to see it to believe it."

"We had a Superman emergency," Ray says, a little defensively. "He was about to get grounded forever."

"I heard." Vecchio turns his attention to Mikey, who deflates a little under Vecchio's scrutiny. If Ray had that superpower, he would_ never_ have crawled under the stupid bushes. "Come on, Mikey. Time to go."

That Mikey actually starts gathering up his wrappers and his blanket is just insult on injury.

"You too," Vecchio says, raising his eyebrows at Ray.

Ray looks ahead at Mikey, patiently waiting with his blanket in his arms, and up at Vecchio, smirking like he already knows where this is going, and realizes for the first time that he's going to have to crawl _backwards_ down the tunnel to get out.

"Aw, crap," Ray says, with feeling.

Vecchio is beaming like it's Christmas. "Didn't think about how you were going to get out, did you?"

"Shut up, Vecchio--"

"You want me to go get Benny? We could cut you out of there, I'm sure he's got one of those tree saws, or an axe--"

"No one is swinging an axe at me!" Ray shifts back onto his knees and elbows, trying to figure out the best way to crawl backwards through shrubs. "Just – go away. I don't want to crawl with an audience." Not that he really has a choice; Mikey is watching him like Ray is better than TV. Overhead, Vecchio laughs, and the branches rustle back into place.

Vecchio is waiting for him at the other end of the tunnel. In fact, by the time Ray gets there, Vecchio isn't alone: Fraser is standing there with his thumb pressed against his mouth to suppress a smile, and Frannie is waiting with a wooden spoon in one hand, her grip on it suggesting she might whack Ray with it as soon as his head is in range.

Ray must look pretty pathetic, because she only waves the spoon at him as he gets to his feet and says, "what are you, _five?_ On what _planet_ did that seem like a good idea?"

"I hear there was a Superman emergency," Vecchio says. Fraser's smile curves up and away from his hand, eluding his attempts to conceal it.

Mikey crawls out of the shrub tunnel and makes a beeline for the back door, not so much as pausing to put in a good word for Ray. Typical. Frannie bolts after him, shouting, "we are _not_ done here, Michael," and the door slams behind them, cutting off the rest of her tirade.

Vecchio pats at Ray's shoulders, clearing off a little of the dirt. "I don't think I've ever seen you this dirty, Kowalski."

Fraser lightly touches a particularly shrub-scratched bit of Ray's jaw. "I have an ointment for--"

"No ointments, Fraser," Ray interrupts, shaking Vecchio off to pat dirt off his own stupid clothes. "I think I've suffered enough."

Vecchio glances back at the house, squinting thoughtfully and half-smiling – and then he's leaning in, one hand on Ray's jaw as they kiss, Vecchio's fingers overlapping with Fraser's over the little shrub cuts on Ray's skin. When Vecchio pulls back, Fraser slides his hand up to ruffle Ray's hair, raining dirt down onto his clothes.

Ray eyes them both. "What was that for?"

"For being so stupid it's almost cute," Vecchio says, and gives him a little push toward the house. "Come on, let's go find you some ointment."


End file.
